


My Lips are Sealed

by ChocolateAndRedbull



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Character, Sick Peter, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateAndRedbull/pseuds/ChocolateAndRedbull
Summary: When Tony returns from a summer away from the city, Peter can’t wait to get back into the labBut not for the reasons you might expect
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 119





	My Lips are Sealed

The door to the elevator slid open to reveal Peter Parker, who immediately kicked his overnight bag forwards and stood in the entrance to the lab with his hoodie hanging off of one shoulder, his head low.

He looked up at Tony through his hair, wet with the downpour that had taken over the city the entire day.

“We need food, and lots of it.”

“I missed you too, kid,” Tony chuckled, “I like your haircut.”

Tony had spent the summer in Italy with Pepper, somewhat reluctantly as Tony knew he would miss the kid and their lab days. But a new school year had started and thus, the boys were back and even Tony couldn’t deny that he was excited.

“Mr Stark, you don’t understand. May’s been on a vegetarian health kick. I’ve had nothing but brown rice, and vegetables, and tofu, and-and _fruit_ , for the entire summer. I-I’m wasting away! We need to order a pizza. Two pizzas. And then whatever you what,” he spluttered.

Tony chuckled again. He had to admit, the kid did look skinnier than when he had left, but not unhealthy.

“Alright, buddy, I’m gonna presume there’s no work getting done until you’re fed, huh?”

“Mr Stark, I’ve been waiting for you to come home since the day you left, May has lost her mind,” he said, flailing his arms dramatically.

Peter tugged his damp hoodie off and dropped it on his chair.

“I’m going upstairs to wait for my pizza,” he nodded shortly before turning on his heel and stepping back into the elevator.

Tony nodded with a laugh, before announcing “Friday, order two large pizzas on a rush order?” and shaking his head as he washed his hands.

* * *

Peter Parker had never felt euphoria until his first bite of pizza after an entire summer of _grass, Mr Stark, I’ve been eating rabbit food for three months_.

The next half hour was spent in a blur of pizza, and soda, and ice cream and _Mr Stark I love you have I ever told you that?_

Tony glanced over at the kid who had inhaled an entire pizza and two slices of Tony’s, and half a carton of double chocolate chip ice cream in 30 minutes and was currently sprawled on his couch, mouth still covered in pizza sauce as he blinked lazily at the tv.

“Feeling better now, buddy?” Tony asked, laughing as the kid gave him a lazy thumbs up.

“Jus’- jus’ lemme finish this episode, and we can go downstairs,” he mumbled, one arm resting on his full stomach, the other thrown above his head.

Tony smirked at the kid’s eyes already starting to droop, and he rubbed a comforting hand across his knee.

“We’ve got all weekend, buddy, how about we turn on a movie and relax for tonight?”

Peter just hummed as his eyes slid shut.

* * *

Once the kid was asleep, Tony had cleared up the pizza boxes and ice cream cartons, picked up his tablet and sat down beside him once again.

He hadn’t been working for 20 minutes when the kid whimpered in his sleep.

Tony frowned as the kid rolled over onto his side with a groan, smushing his face into the couch cushions.

Tony didn’t want to disturb the boy as he slept but couldn’t help notice the pained look on his face.

Debating on whether or not he should wake him up, Peter answered that question for him by releasing a unsettling belch, his eyes blinking open in confusion.

“Kid?” Tony asked tentatively. Peter swallowed convulsively, trying to make sense of what he was feeling.

“Want a drink, buddy?” Tony asked as the kid paled, reaching for the soda bottle on the coffee table.

“Um, m-my- uh, my water bottle, I think,” he stammered, reaching for his backpack on the floor beside him. Tony grabbed the kid’s bag and pulled his water bottle from the side, shoving it into the kid’s hands.

Peter took a long drink but pulled away to make way for a harsh sounding belch. “My stomach hurts,” he moaned.

“Think you might throw up?” Tony asked sympathetically, already moving towards the kitchen for a basin in case his suspicions came true.

Peter just hummed, unsure, as he sat up carefully, which dislodged another queasy belch.

Tony shoved the basin into the kid’s arms as his breathing quickened and his stomach turned. Tony rubbed a hand across the kid’s shoulders before he released a rough sounding retch and half digested pizza and ice cream was launched into the basin.

“Alright, buddy, you’re okay,” Tony soothed as the boy coughed up his entire dinner into the basin.

Peter whimpered as his stomach finally settled and Tony pulled the basin away.

“I don’t feel good, Mr Stark,” he mumbled.

“I think we ran before we could walk, huh buddy?” Tony said with a sympathetic smile.

Peter just shrugged tiredly.

“I think your body got used to eating good food that it couldn’t handle eating crap,” Tony supplied.

Peter just took another sip of water.

“You feeling any better now that it’s all gone?” Tony tried again.

“Uh, kinda,” Peter answered quietly.

“Well, we’ll relax for a bit, and if you feel hungry later we can try some pasta, how does that sound?”

Peter smiled at his mentor, “Thanks, Mr Stark.”

“Any time Underoos, now, pick out a movie that isn’t Star Wars and we can take it easy,” he said warmly.

Peter took the remote in his hand and sat back against the sofa. “Don’t tell Aunt May?” he asked hopefully.

“My lips are sealed.”


End file.
